CHAPTER 1: ONE SHOT






Her name was Jessica Stuart, and she had been a forgotten Gryffindor girl.

You could not help but remember girls like Hermione, Parvati, and Lavender: Hermione was the brightest witch in their year, and the friendship of Parvati and Lavender was rivaled only by that between Harry Potter and Ron Weasley.

Jessie and the other overlooked Gryffindor girl, Lauren, were not like that. They did well in their studies, but were not particularly adept; they found a wonderful friendship in each other, true, but it was not famous; and neither of them was particularly beautiful, as Parvati and Lavender were: Jessie was a pale, short, thin little thing, with straight orange hair and wide, faded blue eyes; Lauren had a short, curly brown bob and plain hazel eyes.

No one had ever paid any attention to them. They had gone through their classes, their months, their years at Hogwarts in the shadows of their classmates. Neither expected anyone to remember them.

So why now, three year after graduation, was a smiling Hermione Granger standing on her doorstep, a stack of scalloped pink paper in hand?

"Er – Jessie? Jessie Stuart?" she asked hesitantly.

Jessie opened the door a bit wider. "This is she," she replied curiously.

"Erm…I don't know if you remember me — "

Jessie's eyes widened, and she interrupted. "Of course I remember you. You're Hermione. How could I have forgotten you? You were the smartest person in our class." She opened the door a bit wider, now highly intrigued.

Hermione flushed as pink as the paper with pleasure. "Thank you! I, er, I got your address from the directory, and, well…here." And she handed Jessie one of the pieces of paper, which, Jessie realized, were invitations.

She arched one thin brow as she opened and read it. It heralded an anniversary, a graduation anniversary, organized by Hermione herself.

She looked back up at Hermione, barely suppressing a smile. "We just graduated three years ago."

"Yes, I know," Hermione said embarrassedly, although she too was smiling. "It's just that we're all of us twenty or so now, and I really wanted to see what everyone was doing with their lives at this point."

Jessie wrinkled her nose a bit. She had no doubt that everyone else had fantastic jobs, whereas she was stuck in the Ministry of Magic, working in the Accidental Magic Reversal Squad.

Not very exalted, I'm sure.

Hermione obviously saw the doubt on Jessie's face, and said impulsively, "Oh, please come. It'll be a wonderful time. We're having all the teachers we've ever had there, even Snape — "

Jessie's heart leaped to her throat with those words. "A-all of them?" she interrupted Hermione again. "Even…all our D.A.D.A. teachers?"

Hermione nodded enthusiastically. "Yes, all of them. Well, all of them who can come," she amended hastily. "Of course, Quirrell can't, and neither can Lockhart, but Professor Lupin is coming, and so is Moody…"

Jessie didn't even hear the rest of what Hermione said. She only answered dreamily, "Oh yes, I'll come," when Hermione asked again if she would attend, and absently said, "Goodbye," when Hermione uncertainly told her that "she really had to be going, Ron was waiting." Jessie shut the door behind her and leaned against it with a sigh, closing her eyes and allowing herself to get lost in the memories…

So. Professor Lupin was coming. Well, well, well.

It had been two years since she'd really thought of him, but Hermione's seemingly innocent words had jogged her recollections.

He'd come to be their teacher in her…let's see…third year, it was. From his first class with them, the infamous Boggart Class, she'd fall head-over-heels into a schoolgirl crush with him…


~*~


"Nothing to worry about," said Professor Lupin. "There's a boggart in there."

Jessie looked up at him and gulped, for multiple reasons. She, unlike several of her undiscerning classmates, knew what a boggart was, and had a nasty, suspicious feeling that she knew what he was going to make them do.

Secondly, she really didn't like the lurching motion of her stomach that occurred whenever she looked at their new professor.

He is quite handsome, in an awfully tired, depressed way, she thought idly as Professor Lupin explained boggarts to them. She glared daggers at Hermione when the girl answered his question correctly and was praised by him. She couldn't exactly be angry at Harry for being called on, but still felt a little shock of envy all the same.

What's wrong with me? she thought, dismayed. This isn't right — it would never work — he's at least twenty years older than you —

And what of it? a nasty little voice thought in the back of her head. Mr. Rochester was twenty years older than Jane Eyre in that book Mum made you read —

Yes, and look at what happened to them! her reasonable self thought back angrily.

She came to her senses soon enough to say, "Riddikulus!" with the rest of the class. Obediently, she laughed along with everyone when she caught the words "Snape…into that vulture-topped hat…"

Then she realized what was happening.

They had to try to defeat the boggart.

Damn. Her inkling had been right.

Lauren nudged her. "What's your worst fear?" she whispered.

Jessie's breath trapped in her throat. She couldn't face it, she just couldn't. She couldn't even say it. It was a phobia so acute that she'd rather die than have to see it.

When she explained this to Lauren, her friend looked worried and said, "Say so to Professor Lupin, I'm sure he won't mind."

"Of course he'll mind," Jessie snapped hysterically. "He'll think I'm ducking out of the lesson!"

"Jess, just ask him," Lauren urged her.

As the rest of the class organized behind Neville, who looked almost as bad as she herself felt, Jessie walked haltingly over to Professor Lupin.

He's even better-looking up close, she thought, dazed, as he watched her curiously.

"Jessie? Is there a problem? You look a bit sick, do you need to go to the hospital wing?"

She shook her head and, to her great embarrassment, felt her eyes fill with tears.

Professor Lupin saw it too, and, because he was so tall and she so short, knelt down. "Jessie, what's the matter?"

"I can't do it," she whispered, choking on the tears.

His brow furrowed.

Jessie took a deep, shuddering breath and said, a bit more firmly, "Professor Lupin, please, I – I can't do today's lesson, it's just too…too…" She trailed off and buried her face in her hands, trying to compose herself. Thankfully, the others were still thinking of what scared them the most, and talking quietly amongst themselves, so no one noticed her tears.

"What is it you're afraid of?" he queried, frowning.

Jessie summoned the strength to whisper it.

His blue-green eyes widened. "I see," he murmured, gazing thoughtfully at the floor. Then he stood and smiled at her. She gazed up at him. "Don't worry," he told her, patting her shoulder gently. The touch sent thrills through her. "I think, perhaps, I could let you off facing boggarts. For now, at least. At some point, though, I'd like you to try." And with that, he returned to the lesson…


~*~


Jessie smiled reflectively and drifted over to her couch, sitting down on it with a gentle thud. From that moment on, she had completely worshipped Professor Lupin. Eventually, her grades started slipping. Too often she was busy daydreaming when she should have been paying attention or studying more diligently. For his sake, she always tried to muster a shred of dignity and attention in his class and generally failed.

Jessie blushed. Ridiculous, silly little fool that she had been! There was no doubt in her mind that he must have guessed: she wasn't exactly transparent about her devotion to the young teacher.

Jessie remembered, with a wince, the times he was ill. She always hated those and showed it, earning her many skeptical glances from Lauren.

And then the terrible day had come: the day she found out he was a werewolf.

It hadn't been that she felt disillusioned in any way. On the contrary, she had loved him even more for it. He had to put up with so much, and had to feel pain all his life.

No, it had been terrible because it had put into light to her what he must have suffered all his life.

She, Jessie, had been one of the first to know. It was quite early in the morning, but she was awake and heading up to the Owlery to send a letter to her mum…


~*~


She took the long way around so that she could pass by Professor Lupin's classroom. Hearing voices, she slowed.

"…frankly, I'm not sure I can stay here any longer," she heard the professor say. Her hand flew to her mouth in horror.

"Remus, is there anything in my power to dissuade you?" This was the quiet, grave voice of Professor Dumbledore.

Lupin let out a short, rather bitter laugh. "I doubt it, unless there is any way you can stop Severus from speaking what he knows. He's a thwarted man, and
thwarted men are always desperate for revenge."

"Remus, your students love you," Dumbledore said softly.

How that was true.

There was a long pause, then Lupin replied, slowly, "They may not. Oh, they do now, but once they know the truth? Headmaster, when I tried to help Ron in the Shrieking Shack, he said to me, 'Get away from me, werewolf…'"


~*~


Jessie ground her teeth and punched a pillow. She had never quite forgiven Ron for saying that. Even now, seven years later, the hurt in Lupin's voice still rang through her ears.

She was restless now. Jumping off the sofa, she began to pace.

Back and forth…back and forth…

She let out a roar of frustration. "Godric, Jessie Stuart!" she cursed herself out loud. "Why is his memory still haunting you? Why does your heart still do that funny little skipping thing whenever you think of him? You baby, can't you just forget? Why the hell did that hat put you in Gryffindor?"

Jessie stopped pacing, her energy suddenly spent. She threw herself back onto the couch and resigned herself to more thoughts of her forgotten fancy.

What other embarrassing moments would her mind dredge up? There was only so much remembered humiliation she could take from herself. This as the only perk of being forgotten: no one noticed you being an utter ass.

Ah, yes. When she had said goodbye. That above all others was a memory to make her cringe every time she thought about it.


~*~


He was hurrying for the doors, as if he didn't want to have to face anyone. But she wasn't about to let him leave without saying goodbye.

As he walked by, she stepped out. "P-Professor Lupin?" she said tremulously.

He turned to her, and she made an odd gulping noise to keep from crying out. Across his face were five long slash marks, and bruises littered his neck.

"Professor…you're not really leaving, are you?"

She could have kicked herself for saying that when she saw the sorrow that flickered over his marred features. "I'm afraid I am, Jessie," he told her quietly. He started to walk away.

Before he was gone, she said, almost to herself, "Professor Lupin, you were a wonderful teacher. I'll never forget you."

He turned back again, and she winced. He'd heard.

An odd little smile crossed his face for a moment before dying away. "It means a lot to hear you say that."

And he was gone.


~*~


Jessie groaned in self-disgust at the sappy idiot she had been back then.

"Damn you, memory," she growled.

She flopped onto her back and simply lay there, staring at the ceiling, memorizing the patterns of stains…

Thankfully, after he left, there were no more embarrassing moments. And, slowly but surely, she began to feel less pain each day, and found that, indeed, it was possible to live without him as a teacher.

She only thought of him when she heard bits of news. His best friend, Sirius Black, died, leaving both him and Harry in depression, something she'd overheard between the Trio in the common room. Yet again, she cried for him, then grew so disgusted with herself that she vowed she'd never cry for him again.

This promise was instantly broken when she heard he was seriously ill in St. Mungo's, and shattered yet again when he recovered.

However, she did not cry for him when Neville Longbottom discovered the cure for lycanthropy. Her thoughts of him had dimmed enough so that she did not feel any great guilt in not shedding tears on his behalf. She was eighteen at that point, on her own, and high time she pulled herself together…

Jessie, the twenty-year-old Jessie, sighed. She hadn't cried for two years.

Until Hermione came, Jessie also hadn't thought of Lupin for two years, and rather wished it had stayed that way.

"Great job, Hermione," she grumbled, before drifting off into uneasy sleep.


~*~


"Jessie! Wonderful to see you!"

Jessie forced yet another grin onto her face as Parvati Patil embraced her. "You haven't changed a bit, Parvati," she said truthfully. "You know, I'm still somewhat amazed people remember my name."

Parvati laughed. "Oh, I never forgot anyone from our class! Absolutely darling times we all had, didn't we! Oh, look, there's Hannah, must go say hi!"

Hermione hadn't included on the invitation that it was an All-Houses Celebration, Jessie thought grumpily as she watched Draco Malfoy talk to a member of his posse. She helped herself to another glass of punch and stood next to the table, searching for the one person she was dreading and longing to see.

Her throat closed up. There he was, politely conversing with Dean Thomas.

Jessie took a deep breath, smoothed her dress, and wended her way through the crowd until she was standing right in front of him.

His eyebrows shot up in surprise, and he shook her hand. To her surprise, she felt…nothing. A bit flushed and nervous, perhaps, but not the sort of reaction she expected from herself.

"Jessie Stuart, you've changed," he was saying. "You look…well, taller."

Jessie laughed a little hysterically. She knew she looked different. She'd filled out into her looks a bit: she was taller and not as unhealthily skinny; her hair was not limp anymore, but thicker and shiny due to a very nifty spell; her wan skin was now more like porcelain; and her deer-in-headlights eyes were not quite as shocked at the world anymore.

"Professor, you look exactly the same," she said, smiling. It was then she noticed a glint of gold on his left ring finger.

For a moment, she felt an unpleasant jolt. And then…peace.

Right then, she realized her childish infatuation with Lupin has truly been over for awhile. She could put her folly behind her with a glad heart. She'd never forget what she had felt, no, but now she could, in time, find some new feelings.

"Congratulations," she told him sincerely, indicating the ring. He smiled gratefully and said, "I'd introduce you to my wife, but she's chatting with Dumbledore." He pointed across the room to where Dumbledore was talking to a rather pretty young woman with a heart-shaped face and a pixie cut.

Jessie took a deep breath and said, "Good luck in your new life." He nodded, returned the sentiment, and started to turn away.

Something was not quite right yet. "Professor!" Jessie called.

He looked back. "Yes?"

"…You were the best D.A.D.A. teacher we ever had."

He smiled, and again, was gone.

Jessie stood motionless in the center of the room, feeling a bit lost and tired, but above that, happy. She had finally laid it to rest. Now she was free to forget.

"Jessie?"

She whirled. An extremely handsome boy with strawberry-blond hair and freckles stood above her. "Seamus?" she said, smiling. "How have you been?"

Oh, yes. Jessie smiled inwardly. She could definitely forget now.










A/N: And for your viewing pleasure…

"A Dream Deferred"
by Langston Hughes



What happens to a dream deferred?

Does it dry up
like a raisin in the sun?
Or fester like a sore--
And then run?
Does it stink like rotten meat?
Or crust and sugar over--
like a syrupy sweet?

Maybe it just sags
like a heavy load.

Or does it explode?

Text courtesy of http://www.cswnet.com/~menamc/langston.htm